


Random writings of things

by Rashoumon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Other, Personal Writing, idk lol, random writings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28996563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rashoumon/pseuds/Rashoumon
Summary: Bunch of random bits and pieces of my writing.Some are vents but others is just ones that randomly came to mind.TW for depressive themes and death.





	Random writings of things

**Author's Note:**

> None of the paragraphs are a part of one another, each are their own small stories.

It grows, it continues, never bothering to stop. Waiting for the day it goes away. Sitting silently it feels suffocating, it goes unnoticed but that’s ok.   
Listen closely to the silence, something is lurking.

He didn’t realize how long he had been sleeping, hiding, distancing himself far from the world.   
He had found a place to rest in for the time being and before he knew it everything became a sudden blur. Months have gone by. As he lay there he felt so numb and cold.   
Ah, it was winter now. Snow silently falling around him and his “home”. His body ached with fatigue and hunger, how long has it truly been since he last ate?   
He doesn’t know, doesn’t want to. He slowly gets up and makes his way out, he needs to stop this annoying sharp pain once again.   
As he makes his way towards the door he catches a glimpse of himself in what used to be a mirror, now broken with pieces missing.   
He notices how tired he truly looked. Notices how long his hair had grown out, for a moment he felt himself stiffen in realization. He looked just like Him.

Long weeks have passed and others begin to notice how he slowly changed. His actions, his moods, all changing. He’s tired more often now. He listens but he will not speak.   
They talk to him and try to get him back to his regular self, but he just stands there. He doesn’t speak. They’re concerned now, he doesn’t eat anymore.   
He spends most of his time sleeping or watching out the windows. When they’re around him he smiles but his tired eyes show pain.   
He accepts orders from them without a word. He spends most of his days in bed now, sleeping and staring at the walls.   
He doesn’t seem to be interested with his surroundings anymore, his tired eyes seem to be looking far off into the distance.   
They come to him with great urgency, faces filled with worry. Their voices seem to be muffled, he can’t understand what they’re trying to tell him and yet he looks at them with a smile, he doesn’t speak.   
Closing his eyes and drifting away, he’s just so tired.

A heart Shattered and Broken, and yet still proceeds to work. Waiting for a downfall to happen, to destroy him.  
He’s confused and lost forever in his own darkness. Still he continues on without a word.  
The thoughts lurk in the back of the mind, each day it grows more and more louder. Deafening silence almost suffocating like smoke. The day draws near, beautifully quiet.

He’s surrounded by water, deep water. His lungs burn and his body screaming for rest. He has been swimming for so very long.   
There’s land far off into the foggy distance. He knows, he can see it. He’s struggling to keep his head above water now.   
He’s so very tired, but he keeps going towards that land. Every movement and breath is more pain and exhaustion, it hurts but he keeps swimming.   
No matter how much he pushes forward, the land stays far off in the foggy distance. He’s so tired, but he knows he will make it.   
The water begins to feel heavy. He’s slowly sinking and losing focus, but he keeps going. He’s going to make it there, he knows it.

He awakes with sickness and a great pain, there’s pressure on him and he can barely move to find he had been buried under multiple dead bodies.   
He begins to struggle and manages to climb his way through, freeing himself and getting out of the deep hole. The air burns as it was also terribly stale, the smell of death was suffocating.   
Looking around and noticing how brightly lit the sky was, yet the sun completely blocked out by clouds of red and grey.   
There was a faint low rumbling and humming sound seeming to be never ending coming from within the distance.   
He notices his surroundings, his home and town a place once busy filled with people now completely empty. No one around. silence. except for the rumbling and the decaying bodies of the dead.   
A shiver runs down his back as a realization hits him, he shouldn’t be alive. he should have also died. he doesn’t even know what had happened or when it happened.   
How long was he out? How did he survive? He had so many questions which won’t ever be answered for now he was truly alone.

Cold, tired, and covered in wounds he covers the snow around him in blood. He lays there unable to recall the events. He’s weak and his legs can’t seem to stand.   
Noticing others around him walking away towards the distance, he tries to reach out but he’s grasping at air. He tries to call out to them but his voice is barely a whisper, his voice gone unheard.   
The urge to get them to notice, to get help, to do whatever it takes to crawl over to them is strong. Yet he’s too weak to move that far, he can’t lift his body. He’s tired, he’s hurting, he’s desperate.   
Nothing he can do will get their attention and yet the realization comes. He notices their faces, their smiles as they walk away. They’re not coming back.   
They won’t come back for him, they’re leaving him behind. He can’t do anything but watch as his body grows numb and cold. They look so happy without him.


End file.
